


Orbit

by Dorksidefiker



Series: Metaphorgotten [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25525504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorksidefiker/pseuds/Dorksidefiker
Summary: Thunderclash considers himself far better at rousing speeches than spinning metaphors.
Relationships: Rodimus/Thunderclash
Series: Metaphorgotten [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1851259
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29
Collections: ThunderRod Week 2020





	Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> ThunderRod Week Day 1: Star

There was a tiny blue star in an erratic orbit around Thunderclash's spark, and he knew the moment that those words passed through his processor that it was an absolutely _terrible_ metaphor for what he was seeing. He was not, he knew, as poetic as some mechs; he could come up with a grand, inspiring speech to rally the spirits of those around him off the cuff, certainly, but trying to describe the first signs of a _life_ coming into being around _his_ spark was painfully beyond him.

Ratchet, perhaps his oldest and dearest friend left in the universe, looked the way he'd often looked when they were still in school - like he desperately wanted to step outside with a dross stick and complain about fragging idiot patients who couldn't be bothered to follow the most basic of prophylactic procedures until the stick burnt down to his fingers. _And he probably knows where to get some, too._

Frag.

For that matter, Thunderclash would have liked one, too. Something to calm his nerves. "So... what are the odds?" he asked Ratchet, careful to keep his tone light. It wasn't hard; every glimpse of the little blue star made his own spark pulse faster. Here was _hope for the future_ , zipping around his damaged spark.

" _Ridiculous_ is what they are," Ratchet snapped back. " _You_ , you ridiculous pain in my aft, have done your spark chamber so much damage that _that_ -" Ratchet jabbed a finger towards his spark's wobbly little satellite, "- should be medically impossible, even after your bout of repair parasites-"

"Personality ticks."

The face Ratchet made was entirely worth it. "Never call them that again."

Thunderclash feigned innocence. He thought he was rather good at that. Even Rodimus could be fooled, and he was forever accusing Thunderclash of the direst of things, from plotting to take over the captaincy to stealing his favorite polish. That he was entirely correct about the latter was beside the point.

"The point," Ratchet growled, "is that we can't predict what is going to do, or how your systems are going to react."

Thunderclash just dialed up the innocence, tossing in some confusion for good measure. "We sat through the same lectures on reproduction, old friend. And _I_ didn't sleep through them."

"None of _those_ covered mechs who'd been shot through the spark chamber or were prone to _falling into comas_ when the wind blows wrong." Ratchet dragged a hand down his face. "Does he know?"

Thunderclash didn't have to ask who 'he' was. "He's the one who spotted it first."

Ratchet only kept watching Thunderclash, waiting. He knew every question going through his friend's processor, every question he wasn't giving voice to.

"Rodimus wants to avoid any formal announcements until we know it's viable."

"And how's he defining _that_?"

Thunderclash allowed himself a hint of a sardonic smile, letting the mask of innocence stop. "As near as I can guess? Emerged and able to vent on it's own. He says no one in Nyon would talk about a newspark until it could walk on it's own. Bad luck."

"He's probably telling the truth there." Rachet gestured for Thunderclash to close up. "It's alive, at any rate. Your forge is up and running, building the sentio metallico it'll need for the frame. As long as you can avoid trouble for the next few weeks, spark will drop into the beginnings of the frame-"

Thunderclash raised his hands in surrender. "I remember, I remember! My frame folds back, the sparkling comes out, and it starts to make itself into a proper person."

"I'm bringing Anode and Velocity in on this. They've both got more practical experience."

"Whatever you think is best. I trust your judgement."

* * *

Rodimus didn't want to make an announcement until the little star, as he put it, had a _face_. He'd seen enough newsparks make it to emergence only to see them fail at the last moment, sentio metallico failing to take a proper form, dripping away between the fingers of their carriers. It was easier if one didn't think of them as a _person_ until one could be reasonably sure it wasn't going to fall apart.

That didn't stop the entire crew from knowing what was happening within a week. Only Megatron and Drift had the sense to keep any condolences they might was to offer to themselves. Everyone _else_ was in the mood to celebrate.

Wanted to invite trouble.

Just a few weeks and they'd know, one way or the other. Why couldn't the fraggers wait just a few more weeks?

Thunderclash and Rodimus didn't discuss designations, which of course didn't stop the rest of the crew from talking about it non-stop, or offering up some truly appalling suggestions. All that served to do was make Rodimus more paranoid, checking Thunderclash's spark with a near desperate need when they had a moment of privacy.

But for once, things went as they should. A small blue star dropped from it's orbit into a waiting spark crystal. An ungainly blog of sentio metallico emerged from Thunderclash's form, his frame folding back to allow it to reach the air, dropping straight into Velocity's waiting hands.

And Rodimus was the one to hold him as a face formed, and he let out the first screams of _life_.


End file.
